Iris
by Xstrawberry0fieldsforeverX
Summary: All this time, she had wanted to meet someone who would love her for who she was.  And all this time, it had been Bill.


Men were jerks. Scratch that. _All_ men were insensitive jerks that only cared about one thing. Why did it even matter how she looked? Didn't anyone care about her personality? Did they ever stop to think that perhaps she was _more_ than a pretty face and a great body? Of course not; men were stupid. In fact, she hadn't met one that she actually liked… except maybe…

"How was the hot date last night, Delacour?" Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice. She looked up, noticing that it was her co-worker, Bill Weasley who had spoken. He was seated in a relaxed position on the stairs outside of Gringotts, where he often sat and waited for her. She had never met anyone quite like him. He went to work dressed like he was ready to go to a rock concert. His fiery, red hair, which was even longer than hers, was almost always pulled back in a ponytail, and his left ear was always decorated with a fang earring. He was informal, yet he was always polite, and while she found it annoying that he was nearly always grinning (whether in amusement at her frustration or not), she had grown to like him. Fleur glanced over at him and scowled.

" 'Ow do you theenk zat it went?" she snapped, annoyed. He smirked as she sat down next to him, expressing her anger with a loud huff.

"Sounds like it went pretty well," he noted, the smirk still on his face. Fleur rolled her eyes at his comment and sighed.

"Bill, sometimes I weesh zat I was not a Veela," Fleur told him, resting her head on her friend's shoulder.

"Me too," he joked, though she frowned in response.

"I am serious."

"Okay, I'm listening," he told her, the smirk transforming into a small, sympathetic smile.

"Every man zat I 'ave been weeth…" She stopped, huffed again.

"What?" He asked, glancing down at her, frowning slightly.

"I theenk zat once someone sees 'ow beautiful I am, then zat is all zey theenk about." Fleur sighed, "Nobody cares about my personality, they only like me because of 'ow I look."

"You don't think anyone wants to get to know you?"

"No."

"Nobody?" he asked again. Fleur scowled.

"No, nobody! I just told you so!" she replied, raising her voice at him in annoyance. She lifted her head from Bill's shoulder.

"All men are pigs. If I were not pretty, they would not even talk to me. Because I am pretty, then my personality some'ow doesn't matter! No one wants to see me for who I am!" She cried angrily. Bill smiled, wrapping a long, tanned arm around her petite frame.

"You don't think there's at least one man that likes you for who you are?"

"Stop repeating what I 'ave already told you!" He continued to smile, leaning in closer to her.

"Your favorite color," he said, watching her expression closely, "is blue, because it reminds you of the ocean." She looked up at him, her beautiful features displaying a look of confusion. He smiled, resting his hand on top of hers. "You love your little sister, Gabrielle more than anything, and you're quite overprotective of her. You hate meat in England because you think we overcook it. You prefer coffee over tea because you think tea is too sweet. You hate how people love butterflies only because they have pretty wings, even though they're pretty ugly looking. While most people think white roses are plain looking, you think they're beautiful. You are a very strong woman, much like my mum-" Fleur flinched noticeably, "and you hate that comparison. You've got no problem telling anyone to sod off, and you speak mostly in French when you get angry. And yes, Fleur, you're beautiful. But who you are is more important than what you look like. _**I don't care **_what you look like. You are the bravest, smartest, and most caring woman I've ever met."

Fleur stared at him in awe. All this time, she had wanted to meet someone who would love her for who she was. All this time, it had been Bill. Bill who was always there for her and could read her like a book. Bill who could calm her down or make her feel better when she was upset. Bill who thought she was beautiful, but always knew who she was, and loved her for it.

Fleur smiled, leaning in closer to him, while he leaned over, pressed his lips against her soft ones. He pulled away, giving her a smile that reached his eyes, while she closed her eyes and rested her head upon his shoulder once more.

"You are Fleur Isabelle Delacour, and I am in love with you."

_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am  
_**_Iris- Goo Goo Dolls_**

* * *


End file.
